Mirrors are manifestations of common magic. They are reflectors. They are a way to look at something that isn’t real. They create spooks, living ghosts: whether it is yourself or a plant or a pet, the reflection mirrors make aren’t real. It’s a solid-fluid copy. Before we had cameras, we had mirrors: mirrors are the most basic form of magic.

Magic is mesmerizing. We can place these looking glasses in places and they can reflect whatever you set them before. They are pools into another world, a common zone bent into something fantastic, a view of the normal turned wonky and weird. They make you question reality. They ask you to wonder if what you are looking at is really the world—if it is really you. Mirrors fuck with your image.

Mirrors are funny, though. Why else are they in every house? Why else do they fill the walls of fun houses? Why do we pray to them at midnight with chants to bring people back from the dead? Why do we pray to them to reflect our best self? They are fun. They are tools for play.

I love looking at people holding mirrors and at mirrors that are set at weird angles, reflecting nonsensically. They are so beautiful and so odd and so enchanting. Why do we love taking photos of ourselves and putting ourselves on film? Because mirrors trained us to think this way. We love to look at ourselves and our world regardless of the reflection is the real or imagined version. Mirrors are magic. They are the most basic form of magic.

So, look at these photos. They are so beautiful and simple and they toy with perception. Mirrors are cool.